One Night With a Billionaire (Novella): The Perfect Man (14 page)

“I knew it would, but I had to tell you. If he shows up with the carving this afternoon like he promised, I didn’t want it to come as a surprise to you that I have it.”

“I appreciate that.”

“In fact, I’ll call you if he brings it over, because I want you to sell it instead of me.”

She nodded. “I can do that for you, Ted. I have more contacts and can get you a really good price.” She might even decide to buy it herself and keep it as a reminder of her first sale. No, that wouldn’t work, because it would also remind her of her first customer, Jake the Jerk.

“I don’t want the money, either.”

“What the hell? Why doesn’t anybody want the money? Is this carving cursed in some way I don’t know about?”

“No, of course not. But it doesn’t seem fair that I should profit from something I didn’t make in the first place. You should have the money.”

“But he’s giving it to you, not me.”

“Well, he could hardly give it back to you, now, could he? That would be rude.”

And it would require him to actually talk to her, unless he left it on her doorstep like a piece of unwanted trash. “Ted, he’s already being rude. Surely he realizes that I’ll find out what he did with it. Obviously he doesn’t care.”

“Would you rather he’d pitched it into the fireplace and hadn’t bothered to contact either of us?”

Her heart gave a quick thump of alarm. “Oh, God, do you think he would do that? Is he so eager to get rid of it?”

Ted’s gaze gentled behind his glasses. “Apparently he doesn’t want it anymore, Rachel. People change. Their tastes change. Maybe he’s dating someone who doesn’t care for it.”

Rachel made a face. She’d rather have this be Jake’s decision than one dictated by some woman who planned to redecorate his cabin. “Is he dating someone?”

“Not that I know of. I’m just looking for reasons like you are. Listen, you have the world at your feet. Forget about Jake’s opinion. It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re absolutely right. I just . . . no, it really doesn’t matter. And if Jake wants to ditch that carving, we need to find someone who would be thrilled to have it.” She had another thought. “Do you want to keep it?”

“Knowing what it’s worth . . . I don’t. Thanks, anyway, but it would make me a nervous wreck. I couldn’t tell anybody, and you know how talkative I get after a couple of beers. I’d end up blabbing about it to somebody, and then I’d have to install a sophisticated alarm system, and then—”

“Chaos. Jake Hunter has created chaos.”

“Just remember that he didn’t throw it in the fire. He could have done that and we’d never know.”

“You’re right, and I’m grateful he didn’t. Call me if and when he brings it over. I’ll come and pick it up. Then we’ll decide what to do next.” With another sigh she resumed her grocery shopping.

When she came to the candy display, she loaded up. Now that Jake was discarding her work, watching him skinny-dip would bring more pain than pleasure, so that nightly pleasure would go the way of the dodo bird. In order to compensate, she’d need a lot more chocolate.

New York Times
bestseller
Vicki Lewis Thompson
is extremely fortunate to be doing work she loves. She’s even luckier to be living in the digital age, which allows her to talk with readers around the world. Even though she lives in the middle of the Arizona desert, she’s able to connect with readers in Little Rock or London, Pittsburgh or Paris. She’s learned that those who enjoy her books are optimistic souls who believe in the possibility of happily ever after. So does she, and that’s why she’ll continue to write stories that end that way.